As I Live and Breathe
by NeitherSparky
Summary: Beetlejuice is alive and Lydia's dead. Hey that's not right!
1. Chapter One

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Chapter One_**

"Bee-tle-_juice!"_ Lydia sighed in exhasperation and rechecked her watch. "Where _are_ you? I've got to leave for school!" 

There was no response. From anywhere. Beetlejuice had forgotten, apparently, that he was supposed to meet Lydia before she left for school that morning. He had promised to get her a copy of Lewis Carroll's new book, Such Nonsense, so that she could read some of the poems during lunch, and she had been really looking forward to it. Now she would have to spend her lunch period actively avoiding Clare (who had a habit of ignoring Lydia if and only if the latter was actually - gasp - reading). 

Lydia sighed again. There was nothing for it: she would have to go to school devoid of nonsense. To make things worse, she was already running late. She hastily gathered up her textbooks and headed for her bedroom door. 

"What's your hurry, babes?" called a tiny voice from the general direction of Lydia's watch. "Your skirt catch fire, or what?" 

Lydia glared at the miniature Beetlejuice lounging behind the watch's plastic cover. "Where have you _been?"_ she demanded in irritation. "I was just about to leave!" 

"Woah!" replied Beetlejuice, striking a defensive pose. "Hey, I _know_ I'm late. But you should have _seen_ the traffic on the roads today! I was lucky to have escaped with my _life!"_

Lydia blinked at him. "But you're _dead!"_ she pointed out. 

Beetlejuice considered this. "Yeah...I'm such a lucky stiff." 

"Well, _I'm_ not so lucky," said Lydia. "Waiting for you has made me late for school." 

Beetlejuice pressed himself against the watch's cover. "No problem, Lyds!" he squeaked. "Lemme outta here - _I'll_ get you to school in _plenty_ of time, trust me." In response to the mention of time, the watch's minute hand slammed down on the ghost's head. "Ow!" he yelled. "Two-timing watch!" 

"No thanks," said Lydia, remembering the last time she had let BJ transport her anywhere. The police never _did_ find that 2,000-dollar Persian rug. "Just give me the book." 

Beetlejuice fogged a portion of the watch cover with his breath and drew a nauseated-looking face on it with his finger. "Sorry, babes," he said. "The ol' Dodo's decided to push back publication of his book. Something to do with Ogden Nash and claims of copyright infringement." 

"Oh, no," groaned Lydia. "I was really looking forward to reading - Aaack!" she cried, as the fog inside the watch cleared and she got a good look at the time. "I am _so_ late! I'll see you after school!" She bolted out the door and through the living room. 

"Lydia Deetz!" scolded Delia as her stepdaughter nearly knocked her down on her way to the front door. "What have I said about running in this house?" 

"Sorry, Mom!" shouted Lydia. Then she slammed the door behind her. 

"...And what have I said about slamming doors!" 

Lydia raced down the sidewalk to her bike. 

"Aww, come _on,_ babes!" Beetlejuice, still inside the watch, was whining. "Let me out! I've got this _great_ cherry bomb and the keys to the Faculty Restroom..!" 

"No!" Lydia straddled the bike and set off down the street at top speed. "Go home, BJ - I'll see you after school!" 

Beetlejuice grumbled something about how the living are always too much in a hurry to have any fun, and Lydia watched as he teleported away in a tiny flash of light. 

She forgot all about the ditch. 

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

Beetlejuice pushed open the door to the Roadhouse, floated inside, and slumped dejectedly on the couch. "Rotten school," he muttered. If Lydia wasn't on her _way_ to school, she was _in_ school, and even when she was _out_ of school, half of the time she was doing homework and couldn't cruise the Neitherworld with him. Beetlejuice began to console himself with the thought that eventually she would be too old for school, but then he remembered that - knowing Lydia - she would likely manage to saddle herself with a job, and then maybe a family. Heck, the only time she would have a totally free schedule would be when she was - 

The doorbell rang. BJ answered the door and found himself face-to-face with what appeared to be an ambulatory personal computer. 

"Are you Beetlejuice?" the computer asked. At the same time she said the words, they flashed across her screen briefly. 

Beetlejuice narrowed his eyes. "Who are _you?"_ he asked suspiciously, hoping against hope that the computer was not there to collect on the damage he had done to the automatic teller machine the previous week when he had requested a twenty-dollar bill and it had proceeded to call him a loser in fourteen different languages. 

The computer printed out a business card. "My name is Meg O'Byte," she said/flashed. "I work for the Foundation For the Affairs Of the Recently Deceased. I am looking for a Beetlejuice on behalf of a new client." 

"FORD?" BJ scratched his head, sending several small insects flying. He hadn't heard from the Foundation in at least a hundred years. He became suspicious again. "Who sent you?" he demanded. "I know: it was that receptionist, wasn't it? Just because I made a pass at her that _one_ - ok, well, those _couple_ of times, she - " 

O'Byte held up a digitized hand. "No, Mr. Juice," she said. "I'm from the Juvenile Division. A recently deceased minor has requested that you attend her placement hearing." 

Beetlejuice glowered. Of all the things! "Only a _minor?"_ he complained. "You interrupt me - _me,_ with _my_ busy schedule - and it's not even a _major?_ Begone! Away from my domicile, you - " 

"A _kid!_" yelled O'Byte. "A _kid_ just died and she wants you to visit her!" 

Beetlejuice paused mid-rant. "A kid?" he scoffed indignantly. "I don't know any - " Then he paused again. He frowned at the computer. _"What_ kid?" 

An image of Lydia dithered itself onto O'Byte's screen. _"This_ kid." 

"Lydia bit the Big One?" Beetlejuice draped a forearm over his head. "She was so..._young!"_ he cried tragically. Then he shrugged. "Oh well. Where is she now?" 

"Children are not allowed to haunt unsupervised," answered the computer. "She's in a foster home until the court decides where to place her. Being a close personal friend, and conveniently dead as well, your testimony is crucial to this case." O'Byte generated a printout, ripped it off, and handed it to the ghost. "Here is your summons. Be there on _time._ Your friend's fate as a properly educated phantasm may depend on _you."_ With that, O'Byte marched down the road to the nearest phone booth, plugged her modem cable into the coin slot, and vanished. 


	2. Chapter Two

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Chapter Two_**

"Why won't you let me see my parents?" 

The frazzled-looking receptionist barely glanced up from her paperwork. "I already _told_ you," she hissed (literally; she was a giant monitor lizard), "you're _dead_ now. You can't see _anybody_ in the living world unless you're haunting them. Now be a good little girl and be quiet so I can work, hmm?" 

Lydia crossed her arms and slouched on the hard wooden bench. It wasn't fair! It was bad enough that she was dead, but now she couldn't even say goodbye to her family? There _had_ to be a form or something she could fill out... 

At about that time, Beetlejuice came floating down the hall, humming tunelessly, and with his hands stuffed into his pockets. When he saw Lydia's sad face he stopped cold. 

"Lyds!" he announced himself, and sat next to the girl. "What are you looking so sour about?" 

Lydia was glad that her friend had arrived, but she was just too depressed to do anything about it. "I don't want to be dead," she said in a small voice. 

Beetlejuice was taken aback. "You _don't?"_ he asked, puzzled. "Why not? It's the _greatest!_ Don't worry, babes - I'll teach you everything that I know about being dead. Here, like...this, for example." 

And before Lydia could stop him he had lifted off her head. 

"Aaaahh!" she screamed, shocked. "Beetlejuice! Put that back!" 

Beetlejuice's grin faded and he uncerimoniously dropped Lydia's head back onto her shoulders. "Boy, you're a real killjoy today," he grumbled. Then he shrugged. "Don't _worry,"_ he said. "You'll get used to not having a pulse. Everyone does." 

Despite herself, Lydia began to sniffle. "But - But Beej," she said, "they won't even let me see my _parents..."_ She trailed off. 

Beetlejuice didn't exactly know how to handle this one. "Well...Don't _cry,_ Lyds," he said, choosing his words carefully. "You'll see them again when _they_ die. You're immortal now - the time will just _fly_ by, you'll see." But his voice had begun to lack conviction. 

Lydia covered her face with her hands and nodded. 

A frog-headed bailiff poked his head into the hallway. "Deetz, Lydia?" he croaked. 

Lydia stood up and started towards the courtroom, then noticed that Beetlejuice wasn't following her. She turned around to see him still sitting on the bench, seemingly deep in thought. 

"BJ?" she prompted. "Are you coming?" 

Beetlejuice glanced up. "Huh? Oh. Be right with ya, babes." 

Lydia shrugged and left. Beetlejuice watched her go, then teleported away. 

Lydia followed the bailiff into the courtroom, the same one she had visited with Beetlejuice so many times in the past. There, in his usual spot behind the fifteen-foot-high podium, was Judge Mental, the Hanging Judge. The Judge glared sourly down at Lydia, and she became acutely aware of the trapdoor under her feet that she knew led directly to SandwormLand. 

"Deetz, Lydia, you have been found to be an underaged ghost lacking in adult supervision," began the Judge after banging his gavel (a large bone) against a small, unhappy-looking skull that sat on the top of the podium. "This hearing is to determine your placement for the required one hundred twenty-five years that you must spend haunting the living. Your counselor will be Miss O'Byte of the Foundation For the Affairs Of the Recently Deceased, Juvenile Division." 

As if by magic, Meg O'Byte appeared through a juryman's cel-phone. She solidified next to Lydia, who blinked in confusion. 

"Miss O'Byte, do you wish to address the court before we begin?" 

"I do." O'Byte stepped forward. "Your Honor, this is no ordinary case," she said/flashed. "This particular child has had liasons with the Neitherworld for some time prior to her demise." 

Judge Mental frowned (deeper, that is). "Please explain yourself," he said gruffly. 

"Certainly." O'Byte shooed Lydia away to sit behind a table, then the computer approached the jury. "This child," she began, "has several acquaintances on this side of the chasm, if I may use the vernacular." Several of the jury members grumbled at this, but the computer went on anyways. "I therefore would like to show the jury, through the testimony of witnesses, that this recently departed girl should be eligable to forego the customary haunting period and be placed directly within the Neitherworld." 

A murmur swept through the jurybox. 

Judge Mental pounded his gavel again, irritated at the modest outburst. Then he turned on O'Byte with a fierce glare. "I _hope,"_ he said slowly, "that you can present the court with some _very_ solid evidence to prove what you claim." 

"Certainly," said O'Byte again. "My witnesses will prove that this child is already familiar with the ways of the deceased." 

"Call your precious witnesses, then." 

O'Byte's printer sputtered, as if clearing itself of ink. "For my first, and key, witness," she began, "I call a Mr. Beetle Juice to the stand." 

The court waited. Nothing happened. 

Judge Mental narrowed his eyesockets at the computer. 

Lydia jumped to her feet and began to make frantic waving gestures at O'Byte. 

"I believe your client is trying to tell you something," grumped the Judge. 

O'Byte scurried over to Lydia's table. "He's not here," whispered Lydia. 

"I can _see_ that," responded O'Byte with annoyance. "I thought you said you were his best friend. Now you may not - " 

"He said he'd be right in," supplied Lydia. "He does this all the time...How important is his testimony, anyways?" 

O'Byte glanced over her shoulder (if you could call it a shoulder) at the fuming Judge. "You say he's shown you around the Neitherworld and you've learned more from him about ghosts than from anyone else, right?" 

"Right." 

"Then it's _very_ important. I don't believe we can win this case without him." 

"Miss O'_Byte,"_ said Judge Mental sharply, "if you don't call a witness who is actually _present_ I shall hold you in contempt of - " 

"Greetings, Your Honor!" hissed a smooth voice from the door, which now stood open. "I hope I am not too late..?" 

Lydia gasped at the figure which now strode purposefully into the courtroom. _"Chester Slime?"_

Chester Slime smiled smugly at O'Byte. "You may leave now, Counselor," he told her. "This is _my_ case now. Go on. Shoo." He placed a briefcase on the table and popped it open. 

A large question mark blinked on O'Byte's screen. "But - But - " she sputtered. 

Beetlejuice wandered into the courtroom after Slime. "You heard her, toots," he addressed the computer. "Go get yourself an upgrade, or something." 

O'Byte, disgusted, hurried out of the courtroom. 

Judge Mental, who had been seething silently up to this point, now erupted. _"You!"_ he cried, pointing his bone gavel shakily at Slime's head. "How _dare_ you interrupt a Neitherworld trial! Bailiff!" 

The frog-headed bailiff hopped forward. 

Beetlejuice intercepted him. "Back off, wart-breath!" he warned the amphibian. "You know where you can go." With that he zapped the bailiff, who turned into a handsome prince. The bailiff took one look at himself and departed the courtroom, whooping loudly for joy. 

"Beetlejuice," Lydia whispered urgently. "What's going on?" 

"Don't worry, babes," he whispered back. "I got Chester Slime to be your lawyer. He says he can get you sent back to the real world - and alive to boot!" 

Lydia gasped. "He can _do_ that?" Then she paused. "But - Beetlejuice, Chester Slime is _expensive._ How will you pay him?" 

Beetlejuice waved her off unconcernedly. "No problem, Lyds," he answered. "My credit's good." 

"Yeah, right." 

Beetlejuice had a seat next to Lydia and together they watched Slime go to work. He played the jury like a xylophone, convincing them that not only was Lydia's death an error generated by incorrectly filed paperwork, but also that the sky was, in actuality, chartreuse. He pulled exhibit after exhibit out of his apparently bottomless briefcase and presented them to the court. Although Judge Mental was obviously skeptical, the evidence was overwhelming and he wound up ruling in favor of Slime. 

"And that's all there is to it." Beetlejuice stood up. "Come on, babes - let's get you home before ol' Chuckie startes to tear out what's left of his hair." 

Lydia stood slowly. "A can't believe that's it," she said. 

"Believe it." Chester Slime closed his briefcase with a snap and hefted it up. "I'll see _you_ tonight with my payment," he told Beetlejuice. Then, with a final meaningful glance at Lydia, he sauntered out of the courtroom. 


	3. Chapter Three

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Chapter Three_**

After filling out a scant fifty-six-page release form, Lydia was informed by the receptionist that she was again alive (although, she noted with some interest, she felt no different). Lydia made Beetlejuice promise her that he would drop in later that night, then she teleported herself home by repeating the ghost's name three times. 

She reappeared, coincidentally, in the same exact spot where her bike had landed that morning. She lingered at the bottom of the overgrown ditch for several minutes, examining the mangled bicycle with fascination and wishing that she had only thought to bring her camera with her that morning. After all, photos of her own death scene would _definitely_ have been the crowning achievement of her collection. Finally, as it began to grow dark, she started the short walk home. 

There was a squad car parked in the driveway. Lydia winced. Hoping her parents only thought that she was missing and not dead, Lydia chose to simply walk into the house as if nothing had happened. 

"Hi Mom, hi Dad," she said nonchalantly, and headed for the stairs. 

In accordance with her expectations, Delia screamed and Charles passed out. 

"Lydia Deetz!" scolded Delia, stepping over her husband's inert form. "Where have you _been?_ Your father and I have been worried sick!" 

The policewoman seated on the couch flipped her notebook shut. "Is this the missing child, Ma'am?" she asked. 

"Yes, yes - Thank you, officer." Delia fluttered around Lydia like a moth attracted to a Bug-Zapper. "Are you hurt? Were you snatched? What happened? Why weren't you in school today?" She grasped Lydia's face with both hands and turned it back and forth. "Miss Shannon called us _personally_ to inform us that you were absent, you know, like she always does when you stay home sick, and I just _knew_ you had left that morning because I saw you go myself and - " 

The policewoman grunted something about procedure and showed herself out. 

Charles began to stir. "Delia," he moaned, "I'm hallucinating again." 

"No, you're not, silly," Delia called over her shoulder. "She's really home this time. Now, Lydia," she said, "we will expect a _thourough_ explaination out of you." 

Lydia wrenched her face free. "Um...yeah." Her mind raced. What could she tell them? 

"Well, whatever happened today," said Charles, slowly climbing to his feet, "it must have taken a lot out of you, pumpkin." He arched an eyebrow at Delia. "Maybe we should let her go to bed now, dear, and she can tell us all about it in the morning..?" 

Lydia heaved a sigh of relief. It was just like her father to come to her rescue, albeit inadvertantly. 

"Oh - Yes, you're right, Charles," agreed Delia. "Go on up to your room, young lady," she told Lydia. "But get up extra early tomorrow so we can have a word with you before school." 

Lydia nodded, kissed her parents goodnight, and escaped up the stairs. 

"Whew," she breathed, closing her door and leaning against it. "That was a close one." She looked around, and her gaze finally settled on her mirror. She frowned at her watch. "Not again!" she exclaimed. "What could be keeping him _this_ time?" 

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"You can't keep me here!" Beetlejuice shouted, furious. "You can't - _grg!"_

"You be quiet, you sissy girly-man," warned Armhold Musclehugger, tightening his grip on Beetlejuice's neck. "Mr. Slime says, you can't pay, I keep you _here_ until he comes back." 

Beetlejuice struggled violently, until finally his body detached itself and dropped with a loud thud on the floor, limbs askew. Armhold released the ghost's head in surprise, and it landed in Beetlejuice's own lap. 

"Hey, I'll _pay_ the guy," Beetlejuice lied angrily. He got up and twisted his head back on. "So how about you let me out of here, whaddya say?" 

Armhold respoded by pounding Beetlejuice into the floor like a railroad spike. 

"I'll take that as a resounding 'No'." 

"You stay _here,"_ repeated Armhold. 

"Didn't we cover that about five paragraphs ago?" grumbled Beetlejuice, crawling out of his hole. "...Where is your deceitful yet stunningly dressed boss, anyway?" 

"Right here." Chester Slime stepped into the cell and regarded Beetlejuice with a disdainful eye. 

Beetlejuice glowered at the shorter man. "I told _him_ and I'll tell _you,"_ he began angrily, "You can't keep me here! You can't - _grg!"_

"Oh, I'm _not_ keeping you _anywhere,"_ Slime told the ghost, who now dangled yet again from Armhold's grip. "You're free to go." He smiled and nodded at Armhold, who released Beetlejuice's abused neck. 

"Huh?" Beetlejuice floated there, and frowned skeptically at Slime. "You're letting me _go?_ Just like _that?"_

Slime's smile did not waver. "No," he corrected the ghost, "I'm letting you go just like _this."_

And he snapped his fingers. 

A troop of animal-headed bailiffs stormed into the cell and dragged Beetlejuice, cursing and making threats, down the hall and into a dark room. 

Slime walked slowly after them, his hands clasped behind his back. Beetlejuice couldn't pay, that hadn't surprised him. In fact, Slime had known very well that the ghost would not be able to pay when he had agreed to be Lydia's attorney. That way, he knew, he would be able to extract his revenge on Beetlejuice legally, as per se his agreement with the one who had hired him...and the revenge he had planned promised to be _very_ effective of removing Beetlejuice from his hair (as it were) permanently. What a stroke of luck that such an accident had befallen the ghost's mortal friend! It had only taken Slime a moment to swipe the necessary equipment - in fact, it was exactly like taking candy from a small child... 

Ahead of him, in the dark room, Beetlejuice had only time enough to call Slime one unrepeatable name before the procedure began. 


	4. Chapter Four

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Chapter Four_**

When her breath returned, Lydia screamed. 

"My, my, there sure has been a lot of noise in here recently," said Slime smugly, stepping into the dark room. 

Lydia sputtered and squinted, trying to adjust her eyes to the dark. "You again?" She was very confused. "Where am I? And where's Beetlejuice?" 

"You are where he was and he is where you were." Slime smoothed out an imaginary wrinkle in his sleeve. "It's all very simple, really." 

"But - " Lydia still was discombobulated from the abrupt change of location. "But I didn't say his name. How did I get here?" 

Slime nodded to the bailiffs, who stepped out of the room. He approached Lydia. "You didn't have to," he informed her. "You are a spirit now." 

Lydia shook her head. "No," she said, "they brought me back to life." 

"Yes they did. But I changed that. You are, again, dead. Deceased. Graveyard fodder." Slime grinned wickedly. "Your striped friend couldn't reimburse me for my troubles." 

"Oh, no!" Lydia _knew_ something like this would happen: Beetlejuice was always digging himself into one hole or another. "Where is he now?" 

"He paid." 

Lydia blinked. "I...I thought you said he _couldn't_ pay." 

Slime gazed steadily back at her. "Oh, he _paid,"_ he assured her. "My, my, did he _pay."_

Lydia didn't like the sound of that. "Where is he," she said more than asked, gritting her teeth. 

"I already told you: he is where you were." Slime checked his watch. "Looks like its time for my next appointment." He left. 

Lydia sat alone, thinking. _All this,_ she mused to herself, _because I wanted a little nonsense._ As if she didn't have enough in her life. 

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

It was dark. Then he opened his eyes. 

Beetlejuice blinked in confusion. Lydia's room? He frowned. Then he grinned. Lydia must have called him - and just in time. 

"Babes!" he called out, "Good timing! I was just - Lyds?" 

No answer. 

He frowned again. That was weird. He checked under the bed. 

Nothing. 

"Lydia!" he whined. "Where are you hiding?" He paused. _"Why_ are you hiding?" He frowned deeper at the ensuing silence. Why would Lydia call him and then leave? He passed in front of the mirror on his way to the closet. He froze, and backed up. 

He had a reflection. 

Beetlejuice gripped the sides of the dresser and stared back at himself. He wasn't supposed to be able to see his reflection in Outerworld mirrors! Not only that, but he didn't look right. There was something wrong with the color of his skin, for one thing: it wasn't nearly blue enough. He stuck out his tongue. It was pink. 

"Ok, don't panic," he reassured himself under his breath, "this isn't what it looks like." After all, that was impossible. There was one sure way to tell, anyhow, and he tried it. 

_"I have a pulse!"_

Beetlejuice stumbled backwards and sat on the bed. "This is a nightmare!" he cried. "A nightmare - Of course, a nightmare!" He heaved a sigh of relief. "Just too many Cajun-Style Mealworms before bed again, that's all." To prove it and wake himself up in the process, he grabbed a sharp pencil from the nightstand and poked himself in the arm with it. 

He was rewarded for his troubles with a great deal of pain. He yelled. 

"Lydia?" Delia called from outside the bedroom door. "Lydia, are you upset about what happened downstairs? Lydia? Can I come in?" 

Beetlejuice swallowed in fear. "Uh oh." 


	5. Chapter Five

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Chapter Five_**

"Jacques! Ginger!" Lydia panted, bursting into the Roadhouse. "Have either of you seen - _oof!"_

"Pardon me, Miss Lydia," apologized the Monster Across the Street, helping the girl up after she had run into him. "I guess I shouldn't be standin' s' close ta the door." 

Ginger scuttled forward. "Lydia, something terrible has happened!" she cried, wringing her thin fingers together. 

Lydia dusted herself off. "What is it, what's going on? Did you see what happened to Beetlejuice?" 

"It was Monseiur Musclehugger," explained Jacques, not moving from where he sat, slumped, on the couch. "He came in here slinging threats like _les frisbees._ Then, he kidnapped Be-etlejuice." 

"Last I checked, Armhold Musclehugger worked for Chester Slime." Lydia shook her head. "I wish Slime had told me what he had done with BJ." 

"Chester Slime!" exclaimed the Monster, pounding a fist into the other open palm. "Why, I'd like t' cream _his_ corn! He tried t' pave over mah ay-bode once for a new Shockin' Mall! And he _kicked_ mah poor little Poopsie!" 

"Yap yap, rowr, yap!" agreed Poopsie vehemently. 

"Poor Beetlejuice!" sniveled Ginger. "We should help him!" 

"Are ya sure?" grumbled the Monster. 

Lydia ignored that last comment. "But I don't know where he is..." She rubbed her chin. "Slime said that Beetlejuice is where I was." She shook her head. "In my room?" 

"Maybe you should try calling him?" suggested Jacques. 

"I'll try it," said Lydia hopefully. "...Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, _Beetlejuice!"_

They all waited in anticipation, but nothing happened. 

"Oh!" cried Lydia. "Slime said I was a ghost again! Of course it wouldn't work." 

Ginger gasped in horror. _"You're_ a ghost?" 

"But Be-etlejuice said you were brought back to life!" said Jacques. 

"Slime had it undone somehow." 

_"Quel terrible!"_ empathized Jacques. "Lydia, we are so sorry!" 

Lydia sighed again. "I'm sorry too," she said, "but right now, I'm worried about Beetlejuice." 

"Well, if'n you're a ghost," contemplated the Monster, taking off his hat and scratching his hairy head, "then maybe you kin talk t' Beetlejuice from here." 

Jacques perked up. "That's right!" he agreed. "When Be-etlejuice talks to you, he uses the mirror, _la bas!"_ He pointed to the mirror on the far wall. 

Lydia crossed to the Neitherworld mirror and examined it skeptically. "Um...how do you...turn it on?" she wondered aloud. 

"I do not think that there is a trick to it," answered Jacques. "Just think about Be-etlejuice." 

So Lydia did. 

"There he is!" she cried, pointing. "...Um, what's he doing?" 

"It looks like he's redecorating your room," replied Ginger. 

"Beetlejuice!" Lydia shouted, pressing herself against the mirror. "Over here!" 

Beetlejuice looked up from where he was trying to lift the bed on top of the dresser, which was already in front of the door. "Lydia!" He dropped the end of the bed and rushed to the mirrror. "Quick - get me outta here!" 

"What's going _on_ over there?" 

"It's Delia." Beetlejuice looked fearfully at the door. "She wants to have a 'woman-to-woman talk' with you, or something." 

"Now, when _I_ was your age," Delia was saying on the other side of the door, "I _never_ snuck out of the house. Well, maybe that one time, but my parents wouldn't let me go to the New Age Museum." 

"I swear, I can't listen to any more of Delia's life history," begged Beetlejuice, cringing against the mirror. 

"Why don't you just teleport out of the room?" 

"I _can't!"_ cried the former ghost. "I can't do _anything!_ My juice has gone the way of my death certificate! I'm just a living shadow of my former self." 

Lydia drew back in horror. "You're _alive?"_

Beetlejuice nodded dejectedly. "It was Chester Slime," he explained. 

_"That's_ no surprise." 

"Huh? Why not?" 

Now it was Lydia's turn to shake her head. "Never mind." 

"...Can you get me outta here, babes?" pleaded Beetlejuice, glancing over his shoulder. 

"Well, I _tried,"_ Lydia told him, "but your name doesn't work." 

"But Lydia," Ginger piped up, _"you're_ the ghost." 

"That's right!" Lydia turned back to the mirror. "Beetlejuice! Say my name - my whole name - three times!" 

"Huh?" Beetlejuice had been distracted by Delia's launching into a new story about how her first sculpture in junior high had won some cheesy award. "Oh. Think that'll work?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Lydiadeetz, Lydiadeetz, Lydiadeetz!" 

He popped into the Roadhouse five feet above the floor and immediately thereafter gravity took its toll. He landed face-first with a loud thump. 

"Beetlejuice!" Lydia grabbed her friend's arm and pulled him to his feet. "Are you all right?" 

"Ooough," groaned Beetlejuice, putting a hand to his nose. "I dink I broke by dose." 

Ginger was beside herself. "This is _awful!"_ she cried, flailing her spindly arms. "How can we ever fix things if Beetlejuice can't even _fly?"_

"Or do anything else?" supplied Jacques helpfully. 

Lydia glared at the occupants of the room. "Thanks for your optimism," she said sarcastically. 

"Well," put in the Monster, picking up Poopsie, "if'n there's one power that snake will never lose, it's the power of annoyance." 

"Preach on," agreed Beetlejuice whole-heartedly, recovering instantly. 

Lydia cleared her throat noisily. Everyone turned to look at her. 

"Slime did this to us," she said loudly, "and we've got to get him back!" 

"But _how,_ babes?" Beetlejuice shouted, throwing his arms wide. "And with _what?"_

"We'll think of something." Lydia had a seat on the couch next to Jacques. "We _always_ think of something." 

"And," remarked Beetlejuice, "in usually under half an hour!" 

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

But after three hours had passed and no one had thought of anything (except the Monster, who had thought that all this was cutting into his gardening time), Lydia began to truly worry. 

"My offer's still good, you know." Beetlejuice lounged on the rug. "About teaching you everything I know about being a ghost. 'Course, it might be a bit more difficult now, with me alive and all." He rubbed his chin. "I wonder if a large, fast-moving freight train could fix that." 

"Beetlejuice, no!" Lydia's shout startled everyone, and even woke up a dozing Poopsie. "We have to undo this the same way it was done...If only we knew how _Slime_ did it." 

"Well, we'll never find out sitting around this dump." Beetlejuice rolled to his feet and seized Lydia's wrist. "Come on, babes, let's go see that Armhold Whassis-hugger guy. We'll _beat_ the answer out of him if we have to!" 

"Yeah, _right,_ Beetlejuice, like we can really _do_ that." Lydia dragged her heels as Beetlejuice hauled her towards the door. "He'll _flatten_ us! Besides, Slime would never tell anyone like Armhold Musclehugger about something like that. He probably only had orders to kidnap you." 

"Shoot, Miss Lydia's right, Beetlejuice." The Monster blocked the door. "If'n ya wanna find out what Chester Slime's plan is, ya gotta go t' the _source!"_

Beetlejuice blinked. "You mean, The Handbook For Politicians, Lawyers, And Other Leeches? I _love_ that thing. A real page-turner." 

_"No._ Chester Slime. We have to find him." Lydia nodded to the Monster, who moved aside obligingly. "Come on, BJ." 

"But Lydia, what about us?" asked Jacques. 

"Yeah, Lydia, we want to help!" added Ginger. 

Lydia shook her head. "Thank you all, but it might be dangerous. Beetlejuice and I will handle it." 

"Well, if'n y'all insist..." The Monster frowned. "Come on, Poopsie, let's go practice our new seranade some more!" 

Poopsie yapped happily and followed the Monster out the door. 

"All right." Lydia turned to Beetlejuice. "It's up to us. We'll take Doomie." 

Beetlejuice watched Lydia walk out of the Roadhouse. "Good thing _she_ had a plan," he told the room, "because _I_ was going to just suggest we throw in the towel and go get something to eat." He shrugged and followed Lydia to the garage as the others muttered in disgust. 


	6. Chapter Six

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Chapter Six_**

_"Meep meeeep!"_ honked Doomie emphatically, just before taking the next turn so sharply that Beetlejuice, who as usual wasn't strapped in, had to clutch frantically at the wheel. 

"Now, Doomie - running over people never solved anything," Lydia chided the car. She turned to the former ghost. "Beetlejuice," she said, "I don't think cruising the Neitherworld sewer system is going to help us - As slimy as Slime is, he's just too sophisticated to hang out down here." 

"Maybe not Slime, but his big hulking lackey might." Beetlejuice leaned over the dashboard with his mouth open to catch a few bugs. He chewed thoughtfully and added: "I thought I recognized that walking disaster's cologne - sewage! He's been down here for sure." 

Lydia sighed. "Well, if you're sure," she agreed reluctantly. 

"Oh come on, babes," said Beetlejuice, sitting back down. "Don't worry, _I'll_ take care of everything, if I have to _cremate_ Slime...even though he's already dead." 

Beetlejuice's chivalry did little to asuage Lydia's sadness, however. She kept thinking about her parents - what if she never saw them again, or at least not until _they_ died? How were they feeling right now? What if - what if her body was still in her room? She shivered. No - no, BJ had been in her room and he would have said something if her body had been there. In any case, her parents would be upset when their daughter didn't come downstairs in the morning...or ever again. Her poor father - this would tear him apart. 

"Hey Doomie!" shrieked Beetlejuice suddenly. "Pull over!" 

Doomie screeched to a halt, and Lydia managed a smile as she glanced over to Beetlejuice. "Now, Beej," she said slyly, "you should have thought of that before we left the Roadhouse." 

Beetlejuice shot Lydia an amused glance. "No - Look over there." 

Lydia looked to where her friend was pointing. "It's Armhold Musclehugger!" she cried in surprise. She and Beetlejuice climbed out of the car and flattened themselves against a wall of the sewer. Fortunately Musclehugger, who was leaning against the opposite wall, hadn't seen or heard them - he was listening to a portable radio through headphones, with his eyes closed. "You were right!" Lydia hissed. 

"Of _course_ I was right," Beetlejuice hissed back. "Doomie - go hide." 

Doomie sniveled. 

"Doomie, _please,"_ whispered Lydia. "We know you want to help, but for now we've got to lay low." 

Doomie obediantly switched off his headlights and backed off into the shadows. 

"All right, so..." Beetlejuice cast Lydia an empty look. "...what should we do?" 

"Um...I'm not sure," Lydia admitted. "Without your powers, there's little we _can_ do." 

Beetlejuice merely shrugged. "But Lydia - you're the one with the juice now." 

Lydia fidgeted. "But I don't know how to use it!" 

"Oh come on, it's a snap. Here, this is what you gotta do..." 

Armhold switched stations and found a polka. Finally, some decent music. He frowned down at his watch and tapped it. What was keeping Slime with that dough? He had places to be and people to pulverize - Did Slime think he was Armhold's _only_ employer, or what? Armhold looked at the watch again and was actually suprised to find that the time hadn't advanced more than a few seconds. He solved the problem by smashing the watch against the sewer wall. 

"Hey!" shouted Armhold in surprise as a brick bounced off of his head. He turned around to discover Beetlejuice, preparing to hurl another brick. When the former ghost saw Armhold blinking at him in surprise, he dropped the brick and shouted: 

"Do it, Lyds!" 

"Huh? Armhold looked around. "What is it that is going on?" 

Lydia stepped out of the shadows. "Um, uh," she stammered. 

_"Now_ would be a good time!" yelled Beetlejuice. 

Lydia took a deep breath. "Hey Armhold!" she shouted. "Take a long walk off of a short pier!" 

"Huh?" repeated Armhold as a pier shot out of the ground where he was standing and grew out a few feet over the sewage. He stumbled, and fell into the water. 

"Good one, Lyds!" enthused Beetlejuice. "Don't let him get away, Doomie!" 

"Meep-meep!" answered the car, leaping into the air. He landed squarely on top of Armhold's chest. 

"Oof-Gah!" Armhold coughed on some sewage. "You three will not be getting away with this!" he threatened the group. 

"Ha! Watch us, you pathetic excuse for a lackey." Beetlejuice hopped onto Doomie's hood and leaned over the soggy Armhold. "Now tell us where Chester Slime is!" 

"I will never tell! Slime said not to tell anyone!" 

"Wait." Lydia frowned for a second, then floated jerkily over to the other side of the sewer, so she could see Armhold better. "Can you tell us how Slime switched us?" 

Armhold paused. "Well..." He thought hard. The sewage around his head began to steam a bit. "Slime never told me not to tell that part..." 

"So tell us already!" shouted Beetlejuice. 

Armhold shrugged as best as he could under Doomie's weight. "It had something to do with a glowing thing in the Mayor's office. Now get this heap of metal off of me or I will really get peeved!" 

"Wait a minute, what _kind_ of glowing thing?" 

"I am not knowing this," grunted Armhold, resuming his struggles. "It is pink, and fluffy, and smells like candy, and Slime stole it from a little girl in a blue dress and dark glasses." 

Lydia and Beetlejuice gasped, "Little Miss Warden!" 

"You mean this was done by something from NeitherNeitherLand?" cried Beetlejuice, shivering. "Oh, the horror!" 

"We've _got_ to get to the Mayor's office - come on, Doomie!" She and Beetlejuice jumped into the car, and Doomie sped off down the sewer towards the Political District. 

Armhold got up and watched the others leave. Then he retrieved his radio from the water. 

"Ach," he said. "They have made me lose my station." 

o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o

"I am very pleased - very pleased indeed!" The Mayor nodded his bandaged head. "You, sir, have done something no one else has ever been able to do: rid the Neitherworld of that pest Beetlejuice." 

Slime pressed his fingers together. "But of course, Mr. Mayor," he said smugly. "I always see my tasks to completion." 

"But you disappeared!" complained Maynot, pounding a fist on his desk. "I thought you had scammed me!" 

Slime shook his head and _tsk_ed softly. "Now, now, Mr. Mayor," he said soothingly, "would _I_ do that to you? I think you are confusing me with a certain ex-Ghost With the Most, as it were." 

"Yes...yes." Mayor Maynot leaned back in his chair. "I suppose you're right." He reached behind the desk and pulled out a cardboard box, which smelled strongly of cotton candy. "Now will you please get this thing out of my office?" he implored, thrusting the box across the desk at Slime. "Mrs. Bugsly has been accusing me of taking candy from babies again!" 

Slime shook his head. "The device is your problem," he said, standing up. "My job is done. Just throw it in the landfill, like everything else." 

Maynot harrumphed. "Well, I suppose there's no sense in changing old habits now," he agreed. 

"Mr. Mayor," said Mrs. Bugsly, poking her head into the office, "I told her to wait outside but she barged in and - " 

"I wanna talk to the man in charge!" shrilled Little Miss Warden, squeezing past the secretary into the office. "You!" she shouted, pointing at Slime. "You're the bad man who stole my Cotton Candy Switcheroo Thingy!" She stomped a patent-leather-clad foot. "That wasn't very nice!" 

"Who _is_ this horrid loud brat - I mean, sweet little girl?" demanded the Mayor. 

Slime strode over to Little Miss Warden, and bent down a bit to get on her eye-level (it didn't take much). "My, my, you're a fiesty little thing," he commented patronizingly. 

Little Miss Warden kicked Slime in the shins. 

"Ow!" yelled Slime. He hopped backwards in pain and bumped into the Mayor's desk, knocking the box to the floor. An item that looked remarkably like a large puff of glowing pink cotton candy bounced out of it. 

There was a flash of light. 

At that moment, Beetlejuice and Lydia shoved past Mrs. Bugsly. 

"Woah!" cried Beetlejuice. "What happened to _you_ guys?" 

Maynot - who now stood where Slime had been a moment before - looked at his hands, and then at a portion of his wrist which wasn't covered in bandages. "I - I'm visible again!" he shouted in surprise. He pulled off a long strip of bandage from his arm. "This is horrible!" 

"This is horrible!" echoed Slime from behind the desk. The only thing left in sight was his suit and shoes. "Look what your ridiculous toy has done to me!" he snapped at Little Miss Warden. 

The little girl sniffed. "That's what you get for being naughty," she replied. 

Lydia darted forward and carefully nudged the device back into its box with one foot. She closed the box and picked it up. 

"Hey!" shouted Little Miss Warden indignantly, "That's mine! Give it back!" 

"In a minute," said Lydia, and turned to Slime. "Tell me how to switch Beetlejuice and I back to normal," she said, "or I'll send this thing back to NeitherNeitherLand!" 

"No!" cried the Mayor and Slime together. 

"Then talk," hissed Lydia. 

Little Miss Warden folded her arms. "You're all a bunch of meanies," she pouted. 


	7. Epilogue

**As I Live and Breathe**  
a _Beetlejuice_ fanfic  
by  
C. "Sparky" Read 

**_Epilogue_**

"I gotta hand it to you, babes, you handled yourself pretty well back there." 

Lydia smiled. "Well, I would have done it flashier if I knew how to control those powers better." 

"Nah, you were great!" Beetlejuice insisted. "You had that Chester Slime squealing like a pig beetle." 

"Um, thanks." Lydia smiled again. "I just hope my parents aren't worried about me." 

"Nah." Beetlejuice shrugged. "Charles is dead to the world at this hour, and Delia is probably still yapping on outside your door about her art." 

"Hey!" shouted the reptillian receptionist, slapping one big taloned hand down on the table between the two friends. "Can't you read?" And she pointed to a sign on the wall above them which said _'No Sociallizing'._

"All right all right." Beetlejuice glowered, and turned his attention back to his task. "Hey," he said, shaking his pen, "I've run dry." 

"Me too," said Lydia. "But we're almost done, right?" 

The receptionist blinked at them. Then she actually laughed. "Oh, no, honey," she said, then pressed a button on the underside of her desk. 

There was a rumbling. A huge dumptruck backed down the hallway towards Beetlejuice and Lydia. Before the two could escape it had unloaded about a million forms on top of them. 

"You've only just begun," said the receptionist. "Keep signing! I'm not working overtime because of you." 

Lydia and Beetlejuice groaned. 


End file.
